


Broken Faith

by tfm



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-17
Updated: 2011-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-17 01:37:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfm/pseuds/tfm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Put more trust in nobility of character than in an oath." ~ Solon. Spoilers for 6x18.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Part One**

 _Trust not him that has once broken faith._

 **William Shakespeare – Henry VI**

 **...  
**

His first clue came when they didn’t get to see the body.

Morgan didn’t particularly have any inclination to see it himself – he’d held her hand until the last. That was enough pain. But no-one else had been given the chance to say goodbye, and that was just plain weird.

Reid and Garcia, he could understand. Seaver, even, he could understand. Hotch’s disinclination was _confusing_ , and Rossi and JJ were both oddly silent on the matter.

He cornered JJ on the way out of the hospital. ‘If Emily were still alive, you’d tell me, right?’

She looked at him, face straight. Jennifer Jareau could lie her way out of an execution, and Morgan reminded himself not to forget that. ‘If Emily were still alive, then we’d be putting her in danger by doing something about it,’ she said.

His heart sunk with realization.

Emily had gone into hiding, to protect _them_.

She – and JJ, it seemed – had faked her death, so that Doyle would not take his anger out on the remaining members of the BAU. He was hurt, and yet he knew that if he were in that situation, he would have done the same damn thing.

He wanted to find her, and tell her that everything was going to be okay, but that was a death sentence for both of them.

Instead, he waited.

Instead, he trusted that Ian Doyle would be found, and that Emily Prentiss knew how to take care of herself.

Instead, he looked at her picture every day, and reminded himself of her bravery, and her strength, and how, if she really was dead, he didn’t think he’d be able to cope with it.

Six months.

That was how long it took for JJ to return to the BAU, and drag them into the Bullpen and tell them that Ian Doyle had been shot and killed by an Interpol agent in Belgium.

‘Where is she?’ he demanded, and Garcia gave him a quizzical look.

‘What are you talking about?’

Morgan looked at Hotch and JJ, who shared a look between themselves, as if deciding which of them was going to break the news to the team.

‘Emily’s still alive,’ Hotch announced, and there was a long silence.

‘What?’

‘If Doyle knew, then he would have gone after her, as well as anyone close to her,’ JJ continued. ‘So she went into hiding.’

‘Where is she?’ Morgan repeated. ‘She’s coming back, right?’

‘I spoke to her this morning,’ Hotch revealed. ‘She’s going to take care of some things first, but she will be returning, yes.’

Garcia let out a choked sob, and it wasn’t long before the tears were flowing rapidly down her face. ‘Oh my God.’ Morgan pulled the technical analyst into a hug.

‘It’s okay, baby girl.’

Garcia thumped him on the shoulder. ‘You knew? You knew, and you didn’t _tell_ me?’

‘I guessed,’ he admitted, giving her a guilty look. ‘But I didn’t know for sure, and I didn’t want to get your hopes up.’

‘I could have _found_ her.’

‘And that was the reason you weren’t told,’ Hotch said evenly. ‘If anybody found out, the information would have made it back to Doyle.’

The next day found the entire team waiting at Dulles – actually _at_ the gate, thanks to their badges.

Emily was the last one off the plane.

From the look on her face, it was evident that she’d done it on purpose – that she knew that they’d been waiting for them, and that she didn’t want for them to see how ashamed she was. She’d grown out her bangs, and her hair was pulled back into a braid. Morgan was twenty feet away, but he could still see the tears in her eyes.

Morgan walked right up to Emily, and wrapped her in a tight hug. ‘I missed you _so_ much.’

‘Missed you too,’ she mumbled into his shoulder. ‘So sorry.’

‘I know,’ he reassured her. ‘I know.’ He let go, knowing that he wasn’t the only one that wanted to greet her. Garcia was bawling her eyes out, even as she took Emily in a death grip.

‘I got your voicemail,’ Emily revealed. ‘You have no idea how much it helped me.’

‘You are _never_ leaving my sight again,’ Garcia admonished the former profiler. ‘I don’t care if I have to spend the rest of my life handcuffed to you.’

‘Kevin might care.’ Emily paused, frowning. ‘You are still with Kevin, right?’

‘Actually,’ Garcia said, a wide smile breaking through the tears. ‘We’re engaged. And to be honest, he would _absolutely_ be okay with that, if you know what I mean.’

Emily gave a laugh, and Morgan felt a strange warmth in his heart. He’d never realized how much he loved Emily’s laugh until he stopped hearing it.

It was kind of surreal.

‘Your things are in storage,’ Hotch told her. ‘Your mother _does_ know that you’re alive, but we couldn’t keep the apartment without arousing suspicion.’

Emily shook her head. ‘I don’t care,’ she said. ‘All I care is that I’m back, and that Doyle’s dead, and I can go back to living my life.’ Her voice had a sadness to it, and Morgan couldn’t blame her. After everything that had happened…going back to living her life wasn’t going to be easy.

‘I’ve also requisitioned the paperwork to have your death certificate rescinded,’ Hotch said. Emily bit her lip.

‘Thank-you.’

‘You can stay with me, if you want,’ Morgan told her as they walked towards baggage claim, and she stared at him, surprised. ‘I mean…it’ll be more comfortable than a hotel room.’

‘Also, you’re probably going to need to fight Kevin to the death to get Sergio back,’ Garcia told her. ‘That adorable kitty of yours was moping just as much as the rest of us.’

Since they all had the day off – something that hadn’t happened since the leave they’d taken after the funeral – their motley procession drove back to Morgan’s house.

‘So, where have you been?’ Morgan asked, in what he hoped was a casual tone, as he turned out of the airport parking lot.

‘Oh, France, Spain, Costa Rica…’ she started. ‘Like a six month vacation, really.’

He gave her a look. ‘You were looking for Declan, weren’t you?’

‘I needed to make sure Doyle didn’t get to him.’

‘He’s safe, then?’

Emily bowed her head. ‘Doyle got to Louise. I’m petitioning to get him back to the States so I can take care of him, but…The paperwork is a real clusterfuck.’

‘Did you love him?’ Morgan asked, and Emily started.

‘What?’

‘Doyle – did you love him?’

‘I…’ She frowned, shoulders dropping. ‘I don’t know.’ The words were almost in a whisper. ‘He acting differently, when he started to fall for me. Sometimes it was so easy to believe that there was a heart of gold, deep down. But there wasn’t.’

‘Were you involved in the takedown?’

Emily shook her head. ‘No. Clyde made sure I was well out of the way. Seems like they did a much better job than I did.’

‘You know, it wouldn’t have come to that, if you’d told us earlier.’

Emily sighed. ‘Look, Morgan, I understand you’re upset about…everything. But I just got off a nine hour flight. Can we please not talk about it right away?’

‘Okay,’ Morgan agreed. ‘But we _will_ talk about it.’

Emily was back, but there was a long way to go before he ever trusted her again.


	2. Chapter 2

Morgan put a call through for half a dozen pizzas not long after they stepped through the front door. ‘Man,’ Emily said, with a moan. ‘I haven’t had a good pizza in so long.’

‘So what happened?’ Morgan asked, trying to ignore the warning look from JJ. He wasn’t exactly very happy with JJ right now. ‘You just got up and flew away?’

Emily gave a slight grimace. ‘Not quite,’ she told him. ‘I was in hospital for almost six weeks.’

‘Six weeks?’ he asked, incredulous. The wound had been bad, he knew, but _that_ bad.

‘Doyle wasn’t exactly going to give me a merciful death, Derek. I had a pretty bad concussion, and a couple of broken bones before he even got near that table leg. They stabilized me…shipped me off to a more “classified” location, and once I had recovered enough for them to wash their hands of me, they put me on a plane.’ There was a slight bitterness to her voice – spending six weeks alone in hospital didn’t sound like a very appealing conclusion to the saga.

JJ had a slightly guilty look on her face. ‘We figured that if Doyle was watching, there was no conceivable reason for Hotch and I to be visiting a hospital every couple of days.’

Emily waved her hand. ‘I know, I get it.’ She sighed. ‘Can I use your shower?’

‘Sure,’ Morgan nodded. ‘Upstairs, end of the hall. I’ll go find you a clean towel.’

‘Thanks.’

He didn’t have an overabundance of towels like some people, but the ones he did have were sitting in a basket in the laundry – he’d been meaning to fold them for several weeks now.

‘Come in,’ Emily called out, when he knocked on the door. She was standing in front of the mirror in her bra and jeans. He’d noticed it earlier, but now it was so much more apparent – she had lost a _lot_ of weight.

‘Looks like you need that pizza,’ he joked. Emily turned around, and Morgan stopped. He wasn’t sure what he caught sight of first – the massive, ugly scar across her abdomen, or the four-leaf clover that was burnt into her breast.

‘Apparently faking your own death is kind of stressful,’ she said, head down to avoid his gaze. ‘The clover was Doyle. The scar…well, apparently my fake death was pretty close to not being fake.’ There was a long pause. ‘Would you mind…?’

‘Sure,’ he said, nodding. ‘I’ll be downstairs.’

‘How is she?’ Rossi asked, as Morgan settled himself on the couch, taking Clooney’s enthusiastic pawing in stride.

‘Stressed, upset…I dunno. How would you be?’ Morgan looked around the room; he’d been so focused on Emily, that he hadn’t taken the time to observe the reactions of the rest of the team. Reid was staring at his fingernails, trying to avoid the topic of conversation that would no doubt be omnipresent for the next few weeks. It had taken the younger man a long time to get over Emily’s death – to discover that she was still alive was a hell of a shock to his system.

Hotch’s expression was, as usual, stoic. Today, though, the lines seemed more creased, the brow more furrowed. He had known.

For six months, he had know that Emily was alive, and he hadn’t told them.

Morgan had watched Garcia break down, almost every day for the first week. It had taken Morgan, a shitload of Godiva, half a bottle of Peach Schnapps, and three different romantic comedies to cheer her up. Even then, it had ended with both of them in tears, reminiscing about the things Emily had said, or done. He might have had his suspicions about whether or not she had really died, but he still needed to mourn.

Hotch knew all along, and he hadn’t said a damn thing. Morgan had always respected the Unit Chief, but right now, he felt some kind of fury at the other man. Not just for his sake, or for Garcia’s, but for Emily’s, too.

Everything that had happened since that day, she had been through alone. If not for that fact, the deceit might have been easier to reconcile.

Rossi was oddly relaxed about the situation, as if discovering that a colleague returning from the dead was something that he was used to. By contrast, Seaver was shell-shocked. They didn’t teach everything in the academy; especially not something like this.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and Clooney started barking. Morgan stood, pulling his wallet out, as Hotch and Rossi both did the same.

‘I got this,’ Morgan told them. Rossi came to the door anyway, to help him bring the pizzas inside.

As if drawn by the smell of food, Emily came back downstairs just a few seconds later, hair washed, and looking a lot more relaxed than she had been when she’d first stepped off the plane.

Nobody talked until they’d all eaten at least one slice of pizza. Emily was on her third (had she been eating at _all_ the last six months?) when she finally asked, ‘So what else have I missed?’

‘To be honest, not that much,’ Rossi admitted. ‘There was a lot of crying, the first month.

‘Especially from me,’ Garcia interjected. ‘And before you see your gravestone, I should probably tell you that it’s pretty much a shrine.’

‘Okay,’ Emily nodded, which really, was the only reaction she could have given to the revelation. Soon, though, it became clear that even after being away from the team for so long, Emily mostly wanted to be left alone. For a moment, it looked as though Garcia was going to try and stay anyway, but she was ushered out by JJ.

‘Everything okay?’ Morgan asked, when the door clicked shut for the last time.

Emily nodded then shook her head. ‘Yes. No. I don’t know. I guess I just feel like…Like my absence would have made a bigger impact.’

Morgan sat down beside her, and put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Trust me princess; your absence had a _huge_ impact. Garcia spent the entire time trying to track Doyle down. Reid didn’t go a single day without looking at your desk. Seaver…well, let’s just say Rossi isn’t as forgiving a mentor as you were.’

Emily gave a sad chuckle. ‘Heh. Thanks. I think.’

‘You were a part of the team for so long, and then suddenly there was this hole that nobody could fill.  We could have brought in another agent, but _nobody_ could have been the sexy kickass nerd that you are, Emily Prentiss.’

Emily raised an eyebrow. ‘Sexy?’

‘You know it’s true.’

She laughed again – this time with so much more warmth. ‘It’s been a _long_ time since anyone has called me sexy.’

‘Why did you do it, Emily?’ he whispered softly. ‘Why did you run away?’

‘I didn’t have a choice,’ she told him. ‘By the time I was lucid enough to realize what was going on, I’d already been declared dead.’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

What he meant was _, Why did you take the fight to Doyle, knowing that we would have done anything to help you?_ What he meant was, _Why didn’t you tell us about him in the first place?_

‘I know,’ she said. ‘And maybe one day I’ll be able to give an answer that satisfies you, but I think we both know that whatever I say now isn’t going to be enough.’

Morgan couldn’t disagree with that – in his mind, no answer would _ever_ be enough.

‘I think I might take a nap,’ Emily announced, the tone of her voice suggesting that it was not sleep on her agenda, but rather avoiding the conversation. He needed to push, but at the same time, he knew he couldn’t push too hard. No matter how much of a façade of strength she put up, the events of the last six months had no doubt pushed that strength to its limits.

Derek Morgan was not going to be the one that broke her.


	3. Chapter 3

It was four a.m. when Morgan woke. He heard the rustling of sheets, and soft moans in the room opposite his – not particularly loud, but then, he’d been sleeping lightly anyway.

There was a loud, exasperated, ‘ _Fuck_.’

‘Everything okay?’ he called back.

‘Yeah,’ Emily said, but Morgan heard the crack in her voice. He pulled back the sheets and slid out of bed.

Emily was dressed in a tank and sweatpants, sitting at the edge of the bed. The light on the nightstand cast a soft, orange glow over haunting features.

‘Nightmare?’ he asked, and Emily gave a slight grimace.

‘It’s nothing.’

‘Doyle’s dead,’ he told her firmly. ‘He can’t hurt you.’

‘I was dead too, remember?’

Morgan frowned. ‘You think someone was trying to draw you out?’

Emily didn’t answer straight away, and when she did, it wasn’t a direct answer. ‘For a long time, my life was built on lies. Every cover I had – every alias – was based on a part of my own life, but they weren’t me. They were completely different people. When you live that life long enough…it’s hard enough to trust yourself, let alone anyone else. Until I see his body, with a bullet hole between his eyes, I’m going to be a little bit paranoid.’

‘What about a picture?’

‘You mean like the pictures of Declan and Louise Jones’s execution?’ she countered, and Morgan conceded that she did have a point.

‘So why come back?’

‘Because for the first time, I felt like I had something to come back _to_.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you – I was scared…and I was ashamed at what I had to do to bring Ian Doyle down.’ For a moment, it almost seemed as though she was going to tell him a little more about what she’d done, but instead, she moved back up onto the bed. ‘I’m going to try and get back to sleep. Thanks, for…Thanks for everything, Derek.’

He gave her a sad smile. ‘Always.’

 **…**

The thought of sneaking out before Morgan woke was a tempting one. Emily didn’t particularly want to deal with the awkward silences and his intermittent reassurance that everything was going to be okay. He might have known more than she would have liked about Ian Doyle, but he didn’t know everything.

‘So what did you have planned for the day?’ Morgan asked, no doubt trying to sound casual as he wolfed down cornflakes.

‘I was going to go see my mother,’ Emily told him, biting her lip. ‘I also have a meeting with Strauss in the afternoon.’

Morgan frowned. ‘So soon? Don’t you want to get things sorted out first?’

Emily shook her head. ‘I’m not going in to tell her I’m coming back, Morgan. I’m going in to make my resignation a little more official.’

Morgan stared at her. This was what Emily wanted to avoid. She’d wanted to have handed in her forms before Morgan had the chance to do anything about it. ‘What do you mean, Emily? You can’t _quit_.’

Emily gave a low laugh. ‘Aside from all the laws I broke to track down Doyle, Morgan, can you look me in the eye and tell me that you still trust me to have your back?’

He looked her in the eye, and Emily could see the truth. He couldn’t make that promise, and with good reason. Emily hadn’t kept her past from the team just because she was ashamed of it. Joining a new team, the most important thing in the world was trust. Of course, thanks to Strauss’ intervention, that almost hadn’t mattered at all.

‘What’ll you do?’

‘I don’t know,’ Emily told him truthfully. ‘Probably something a little less…intense. Who knows how long that will last?’ It was a hard life to walk away from, especially considering the fact that the only friends she even really had were the BAU team. But if she _did_ manage to find a way to adopt Declan, the FBI was not a place she wanted to be working. ‘Maybe I can join a book club.’

‘You alright for cash?’ Morgan asked, as he dropped her off at the Metro station. While he had offered to drive her into D.C., it wasn’t exactly the most practical drive, and Emily wasn’t exactly looking forward to the long, awkward drive.

‘Yeah,’ she nodded. Her U.S. bank account had no doubt been emptied out, but she’d exchanged some cash before the flight over. It was enough to survive, or, if she needed to, run again. It wasn’t a particularly noble option, but nobility went completely out the window when the people you loved were in danger.

The Metro ride into D.C. was about the same as almost every one that Emily had made before. Somehow, she felt like things should be different, like people should have been staring at her. They were too busy being wrapped up in their own lives – she couldn’t fault them for that.

When she reached the FBI Academy, though, it was a different story. Here, people _knew_ that she had died. Some of them had probably even been at her funeral. By now, though, she figured that news of her resurrection had made its way around the rumor mill.

Sure enough, there were stares. Frank, the red-headed security guard, gave her a tight hug. A couple of people in the elevator congratulated her, as if almost dying and having to go into hiding was something that she was supposed to be proud of. Strauss wasn’t nearly as sentimental, and for once in her life, Emily was glad of that fact.

‘It’s good to see you’re well, Emily,’ Strauss said, and it felt kind of weird for the Section Chief to be using her given name, instead “Agent Prentiss.” ‘I wasn’t entirely sure that this was the best course of action, under the circumstances, but it seems to have all worked out.’

Emily raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t exactly how she would have put it. If things had “worked out” she wouldn’t have been in Strauss’ office at all. If things had “worked out” she would have been in the bullpen, at her desk, doing paperwork. If things had “worked out” she wouldn’t have been staying with Morgan, or living out of a duffle bag. Six months ago, Emily might have made a scathing remark, but today, she didn’t.

The papers needed Hotch’s signature as well, so it was with a heavy heart that Emily made her way down to the BAU.  She tried to make herself inconspicuous as she walked around the edges of the bullpen, but it seemed like someone had made a loudspeaker announcement of her presence.

Maybe she should have come in on the weekend.

‘How are you settling back in?’ Hotch asked, before he even looked at the form that she passed him.

‘Well until I get a new place, it’s going to be a little awkward,’ she admitted. ‘Derek’s been…far more accommodating than I could have hoped for, but I know that deep down he feels like I’ve betrayed him.’

Hotch nodded. The fact that the Unit Chief had been complicit in the lie regarding Emily’s death meant that he probably wasn’t exactly in Morgan’s good books either.

‘Are you sure this is what you want to do?’ he asked, gesturing towards the sheet of paper. ‘It doesn’t matter what happened, you know you still have a place on this team, if you want it.’

Unlike with Morgan, Emily didn’t appeal to Hotch’s fears. She gave it to him straight. ‘I don’t know if I _can_ come back, Hotch. At least…not right away. I need to…I don’t know…Do something different for a while, I guess. Consider it an early retirement.’ She bit her lip. ‘And please don’t try to drag me to Milwaukee this time.’

Hotch smiled at that, and he signed the form without further questioning. ‘If you need anything…’ he said, and Emily got the idea that those words were going to be oft repeated ones over the next few days.


	4. Chapter 4

Morgan was waiting outside Hotch’s office.

It was not a conversation that Emily particularly wanted to have at that moment. It would have been easy enough to brush past him like he wasn’t even there, but she’d hurt him enough already. They didn’t cover stuff like this in the “spy handbook.”

‘So?’ he asked.

‘So, I am officially no longer an agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation,’ Emily told him matter-of-factly. ‘I am a civilian, who needs to start looking for an apartment.’ Never mind that she didn’t actually have any income. She wasn’t sure what the policy on pension was for the situation, which was why her next stop was HR.

‘That’s it?’ he asked. ‘Just like that?’

‘Just like that,’ Emily shrugged, wary of Morgan’s reaction. He had seemed accepting of her decision earlier this morning, but now he just seemed angry again.

‘So you’re leaving us?’ He sounded hurt – betrayed, almost – and Emily sighed internally.

‘I’m not leaving _you_ , I’m leaving the Bureau – there’s a difference.’

‘Just like you “left the Bureau” when Doyle first escaped from prison?’

‘Come on, Derek, we spoke about this.’

‘No, we didn’t. We were going to, but you deflected it, remember?’

Emily tried to push past him. ‘I don’t have to explain myself to you,’ she said angrily.

Morgan grabbed her arm. ‘No, but you do need to explain yourself to Reid, who lost another person that didn’t bother to stick around long enough to say goodbye. And you need to explain yourself to Garcia, who couldn’t even work for three months, she was so terrified that another one of us was going to get killed.’

‘You think I _wanted_ to leave?’ she asked, jerking out of his grip. ‘You think I _wanted_ to spend six months alone in another country, waiting every single day to hear if Doyle was dead, or if he’d gone after the team anyway? Do you think I wanted _any_ of this?’

‘Then you should have told us,’ he said, without preamble. ‘We would have dropped _everything_ to help you, but you were too caught up in yourself to realize that.’

 _Crack_.

She had thrown the punch before she even realized what she was doing; it collided solidly with Morgan’s nose, and sent a shockwave of pain down her arm. His hands went immediately to his face, eyes filled with disbelief. It took Emily several seconds to realize that she had, in fact, decked Derek Morgan – in front of the entire freaking Unit, if the stunned silence from around her was anything to go by.

Out of any other sane options, Emily Prentiss ran.

…

She made it as far as the Ladies’ Bathroom, which, in terms of hiding places, wasn’t a particularly good one. One hand clutched the cistern of the toilet as she emptied her stomach contents.

 _What the fuck are you doing, Emily?_

Her body seized with each choked sob that came out. It would be so easy to just let the tears come, but for some reason, she didn’t. She _couldn’t_.

Compartmentalization was about being who people needed you to be. Right now, Emily Prentiss needed to be strong, and brave, and unwavering. If she couldn’t be that person, then she was going to fall apart.

The bathroom door swung open, and Emily heard heavy footsteps that sounded decidedly male. ‘Go away,’ she called out. She wasn’t interested in Morgan being all judgmental. It seemed pathetic that after so long without the team, all she really wanted was some time alone.

Maybe she was better off that way.

‘Not a chance,’ the owner of the footsteps called back. Rossi. Not expected, but not surprising, either.

‘Are you going to arrest me for assaulting a Federal Agent?’

‘From what I heard of the conversation, it sounds like he had it coming.’

Emily shook her head. ‘He’s been…amazingly cooperative. But I guess that only goes so far.’

‘He took it pretty hard, when you left without telling anyone what was going on. More than any of the rest of us.’

Emily stood shakily, and unlocked the cubicle door. Rossi was leaned against the sink casually, arms crossed.

‘He doesn’t exactly trust easily,’ Emily said with a shrug, turning on the faucet full blast, and washing her face. ‘I betrayed that trust. I betrayed _everybody’s_ trust.’

‘Funny thing about trust,’ Rossi said. ‘Is that sometimes you need to have faith, instead. Faith that they know what they’re doing, and that somehow…everything will be okay.’

Emily gave a grim smile. ‘Thanks,’ she told him. ‘That means a lot. Even if everything didn’t exactly turn out okay.’

He put a hand on her shoulder. ‘It will.’

…

‘Sounds like you were being kind of a jerk,’ Garcia commented, as she passed over an ice pack. ‘I mean, I get that you’re upset, but it’s not your place to dictate how Reid and I are supposed feel about this whole messed up situation.’ The technical analyst’s tone was deadly serious.

‘She needs to talk to you about it then, instead of avoiding the issue.’ Morgan pressed the ice pack to his nose, trying not to cringe. They had moved into the briefing room, where there was decidedly less staring from the other agents on the floor.

‘It’s been like…two days. As much as you’re hurting about everything, Derek, Emily’s been going through it just as bad. You need to give it time.’

Garcia straightened, attention suddenly shifting to behind Morgan. He turned, to see Emily standing with Rossi, looking more than a little bit ashamed.

‘I…um…’ Emily bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry for punching you.’

‘It was a pretty good punch,’ he conceded.

‘Oh, please,’ Garcia laughed. ‘I have checked the security footage, sweet cheeks. You went down fast than Reid when he tried to spar with JJ that one time.’ Morgan gave her a look.

‘You know what? I’m gonna go…not eavesdrop on your private conversation,’ Garcia said, as she and Rossi both made their exit.

‘Is it broken?’ Emily asked, somewhat anxious, as she sat down two seats away from him.

‘I think so,’ he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. There was something akin to anger firing up in his chest, but that would only exacerbate the situation. Besides. He wasn’t sure who he was angry at anymore.

‘I’m sorry. I just…I do want to be able to talk about it, and I know that you need to hear it, but…I don’t think it’s going to work if you keep pushing me.’

‘I know,’ Morgan admitted.

Emily bit her lip again, and stared down at the floor. ‘Rossi offered me his spare room. I feel like I should probably take it.’ Morgan was about to interrupt with disagreement, but Emily shot him a look. ‘I think we both know that you’re going to keep pushing whether you mean to or not, and whatever else happens between us in the future, I don’t want to damage this friendship beyond repair.’

‘Okay,’ he nodded, not feeling entirely convinced. ‘You’re probably right.’

 _It was for the best_ , he told himself.

So why the hell did it hurt so much?


	5. Chapter 5

It was Friday night, but somehow, Emily knew that Reid would be at home. It wasn’t that he didn’t go out – before Emily had gone into hiding, she’d been a party to more than one of his nighttime nerdly endeavors. Solaris in Russian was just the tip of that iceberg.

After everything that had happened this week, tonight, she knew that he would be home. He was. And judging by the look on his face as he opened the door, he’d been expecting her visit. Wordlessly, he stepped back to let her inside.

‘Can I get you a drink?’ he asked, and it was hard not to notice the way he wrung his hands together, nervous. ‘I don’t have any alcohol,’ he added, apologetically.

‘Water’s fine,’ Emily told him. Rossi had made a lasagna that she’d eaten far too much of (where he’d found the time, she had no idea), so she was satiated for the evening. Reid led her into what would technically be classed as a living room, only really, it was more of a reading room. The shelves were overflowing with books, and the ones that didn’t fit on the shelves were stacked haphazardly. There was a television, but it was a small CRT one, which somehow seemed perfectly…Reid.

She sat on the worn sofa, not quite willing to look him in the eye. The reluctance was a shared one; Reid seemed ready to focus on every other part of the room _but_ Emily.

She knew that he’d been avoiding her.

Aside from the first day at the airport, and the subsequent night at Morgan’s place (where Reid had been, at best, distant), he’d made a point to be somewhere else when she’d gone to the BAU.

She didn’t blame him in the slightest.

After all, she was just someone else that had left him. Unlike Gideon, though, she hadn’t left a letter, explaining it. It wasn’t something she really could explain.

 _I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye before I faked my death and went into hiding._

 _I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye before I went after a psychopath who almost killed me._

 _I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye before I betrayed any trust any of you ever had in me._

 _I’m sorry I…I’m sorry._

The last one was the one she ended up using, because really, there was no way she could possibly put all the regret she was feeling into words. It was not something that she could fix with just an apology – that fact was becoming overwhelmingly apparent.

In any case, Reid didn’t even seem to acknowledge what she’d said.

‘I…Are you still getting headaches?’ she asked, frowning. No-one else on the team had mentioned anything about them, and Reid didn’t look as though he’d experienced any severe medical issues, but it was something she needed to know.

‘Sometimes,’ he nodded. ‘Though, based on my observations, they seem to be stress-related.’

‘Oh,’ Emily answered. She couldn’t really think of anything else to say.

Reid could.

‘Do you know why I told you?’ he asked, looking her in the eyes for what seemed like the first time since she’d returned. ‘Because I trust you…We all knew that there was something going on, and I guess…I just thought that maybe you trusted me too.’

Emily bit her lip, fighting back the tears that so desperately wanted to break free. There was no tone of accusation in Reid’s voice, yet she heard it anyway, no doubt supplied by her own traitorous mind.

‘I did,’ she said. ‘I do. I just…He would have killed any one of you, if he thought that you had gotten involved. He almost did, anyway.’

Reid frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘On the rooftop, with the sniper – he was ready to kill Seaver and Rossi to stop Fahey from talking.’

‘Why didn’t he?’

Emily closed her eyes. ‘Because I told him to shoot Fahey instead.’ There was a long pause. ‘I have blood on my hands, Reid. So much blood. I wanted to keep you safe, but more than that, I was ashamed at the things I had to do.’

‘You saved Declan,’ Reid pointed out. ‘If you can focus on the good that came from what you did, it mightn’t be so hard to forget the bad.’

Emily shook her head. ‘I keep trying,’ she said. ‘But then I remember that by saving Declan I sent two families to their deaths. By saving Declan, I sacrificed Louise Jones.’ She had come to Reid’s apartment intending to mend the bridges that had burnt between them, but somehow, it had turned into her own personal therapy session.

In a way, she needed it.

After all, it wasn’t as though she’d had anyone to talk to over the last six months. At least, no-one she could have vented to about what had happened. It would have been a fine mess if Doyle were to discover her whereabouts because she’d been a little too loose-lipped to the local greengrocer.

‘Have you heard anything…about Declan?’ Reid asked, to which Emily gave a grimace. She hadn’t, and it was frustrating the hell out of her. Clyde had been pulling some strings, but to no avail. If she was lucky, then she might see Declan sometime before the end of the freaking universe, but judging by the year she’d been having, good luck just wasn’t in the cards.

‘I’m sorry for dumping this all on you,’ Emily told Reid. ‘I guess...I need to come to terms with everything myself before I can really start trying to fix what I broke. It’s not going to come overnight.’

Reid’s response, when it came, was not a direct one. ‘Maybe we could have a game of chess?’ he offered, and in spite of everything, Emily let herself crack a smile.

‘That sounds great,’ she said.

Reid would kick her ass, like he usually did, but somehow, she didn’t care one bit.


	6. Chapter 6

It was no coincidence that Penelope Garcia happened to be at home on a Saturday night. Emily had wheedled JJ into convincing the technical analyst to stay home. Of course, Garcia wasn’t stupid; she had to know the reason why she was staying home. In fact, Emily wouldn’t be surprised if Garcia was waiting with pizza and a movie.

She was wrong; Chinese food, and a movie, which was still close enough that Emily counted it as a win.

‘I sent Kevin over to his parents’ place for the evening,’ she revealed. ‘We have Star Wars – the _original and the best_ trilogy, chicken with cashews, beef with broccoli, fried rice, popcorn, and an ungodly amount of diet soda. Talking is not a prerequisite. I just want to spend time with my favorite female profiler, in case she ends up dead again.’

There was a long pause. ‘I’m sorry – that came out a lot harsher than it was supposed to.’

‘It’s okay,’ Emily assured her. ‘I get it.’

‘We could also make cocktails,’ Garcia said brightly, in a remarkable effort at changing the subject. ‘I have vodka, and a lot of fruity stuff, and—’ She stopped. ‘Sweetie, is everything okay?’

‘Yeah.’ Emily gave a smile that was only around sixty percent fake. ‘I just haven’t really been big on the drinking lately.’

‘Of course,’ Garcia said with a nod. ‘Well like I said – I have a lot of diet soda; it comes in _very_ handy for all the WoW raiding.’

In spite of the circumstances, a dark cloud of tension hovered over them. Even if Garcia said she didn’t need to talk about it, Emily knew that they did. The situation was eerily similar and yet somehow completely different to her conversation with Reid. If asked, Garcia would absolutely not shy away from voicing her opinion on the matter at hand.

Emily waited until they were both sated with (admittedly, pretty freaking amazing) Chinese, and reveling in the glory of successful Death Star destruction before she said anything.

‘I only did it because I had to,’ Emily said. It took a few moments for Garcia to process that comment, and, as expected, it was nowhere near enough.

‘Why is it that profilers are so into self-sacrifice?’ Garcia asked, furiously, at which point Emily realized that the moments spent processing had actually been moments spent trying to hold back the tears. ‘Is it so goddamn hard to just _not_ run off after insane people alone, or drive ambulance bombs, or…accidentally get infected with _anthrax_?’ Garcia was sobbing violently through her words now, so Emily leaned over and wrapped her in a tight hug.

‘Hey…it’s okay,’ Emily murmured, even if she didn’t quite believe the words herself.

‘It’s _not_ okay,’ Garcia insisted. ‘Because one day, one of those things is going to be a little too much, and I’m pretty sure we’re not going to get ushered into Hotch’s office and told that it was all a ruse for a second time.’ She pulled away slightly. ‘I understand why you did it…well…I understand why you _think_ you had to do it, but…sometimes I _hate_ our line of work so much.’

‘I don’t think we can do anything else,’ Emily said, both to herself, and to Garcia. That, she _did_ believe. Even if she _had_ handed in her badge, she wondered how long it would last.

‘I need to tell you something,’ Garcia announced. Emily raised an eyebrow. ‘Maybe it’ll help you change your mind.’

Emily stared at her. ‘What is it?’

‘Well…JJ and I have been uh…rattling some cages. Nothing illegal,’ she said hastily, apparently noting the look on Emily’s face. ‘I just…we know how much you needed this.’

At Garcia’s words, Emily let herself feel some small amount of hope – not just because she might actually see Declan sometime in the next decade, but at the fact that her friends cared about her so much that they would actually go to the lengths to find him. It simultaneously made her overjoyed, and saddened, because she had almost left all of this behind.

‘Thank-you,’ Emily said sincerely. ‘I know for a fact that I only survived so long because I knew that the friends I was coming back too were pretty much the best people in the world.’

‘Not to mention I would have kicked your ass if you didn’t,’ Garcia said, her tone serious. ‘Morgan’s been giving me self-defense lessons.’

Emily gave a grim smile. ‘He’s a good guy,’ she said, half wistfully. He was a good guy, and she really needed to tell him that.

She needed to say sorry.

‘I kinda get the feeling you’re about to do your Wonder Woman thing where you run off without telling me where you’re going.’

Emily shot her friend an apologetic look.

‘I’m coming back this time,’ she said solemnly.

And she meant it.

…

Outside, it was raining.

Morgan found himself flipping through the TV channels. Clooney was at his feet, half asleep. _Die Hard_ was on, but he’d seen it almost half a dozen times already, so he didn’t stop flipping.

Truth told, his mind was elsewhere.

As if on cue, the doorbell sounded. Clooney started, and then hurriedly got to his feet, giving a low growl.

‘Calm down, buddy.’ Morgan patted the dog reassuringly, and made his way to the door. It wasn’t often that people called on him in the dead of the night, but he was pretty sure he knew who it was going to be. He was waiting for this visit.

Wordlessly, he opened the door and stepped back to let Emily inside. Clooney greeted her, excited.

‘I think he’s sick of having just me for company,’ Morgan said with a grin.

‘Probably because I was giving him treats when your back was turned.’ There was a long, almost awkward silence. ‘I’m sorry,’ Emily said, finally. ‘It’s something that I never said…and I’ve come to realize that I really, really should have. ‘

She paused, swallowing. ‘I know I had a reason for doing what I did…but that doesn’t make it okay that I did it. I should have trusted that you – that the team could help me. I will spend the rest of my life regretting that I didn’t, and the rest of my life hoping that maybe one day you’ll forgive me.’

He put a hand to her shoulder. ‘Emily…you already have my forgiveness.’

She stared at him, confused. ‘Morgan, I—’

‘Let me finish,’ he interjected. ‘I can forgive you because I trust you. Because you have _always_ had _my_ back, and all I need to do is make sure you remember that I will always have yours.’

Emily smiled. ‘Always,’ she said.


	7. Chapter 7

 

Part Seven

 _Three Months Later_

Emily tried not to yawn.

It was a little past eight o’clock in the morning, but she’d spent the night tossing and turning. It had been a long time since she’d felt this nervous. After all, it wasn’t every day you were reunited with the child whose death you faked eight years previously.

She had seen him since then, of course, but things had been hectic enough that she hadn’t really had a chance to talk to him much. A whirlwind of grief and frustration. Declan might have been almost a teenager now, but Emily would never forget young boy that had loved his father. The boy that had been like a son to her.

Of course, the reason for that did not go unmissed. He would never replace the child she had lost, but that didn’t prevent the hollowness inside of her every time she thought of it.

 _No._

 _Not today._

 _You are_ not _going to think about this today, Emily._

Emily pushed the thought out of her mind as she went downstairs to make coffee. Breakfast would have been ideal, but she wasn’t entirely sure that she’d be able to keep it down. She hadn’t been this nervous in a long time.

 _You can stare down serial killers, but an eleven-year-old boy scares you?_

‘I must be going insane,’ she muttered to herself. The tension wasn’t exactly helped by the sound of a knock on the door. ‘ _Fuck_.’ Boiling hot coffee went everywhere, and Emily dove for the dishcloth. ‘Just a second,’ she called out, mentally cursing whoever it was that was so insistent on calling at this time of morning.

Of course, she knew who it was.

‘Hey,’ Morgan said, when she let him in. He had an air of nonchalance, as though he was just stopping by for a visit, and had absolutely no idea about what day it was.

Emily gave him a look. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.

‘Flight gets in at ten – I would have thought you would have been up and ready three hours ago, pacing the apartment.’

‘I got to sleep late,’ she told him. She hesitated. ‘It’s just…I don’t know if I’m ready for this.’

He put a hand to her shoulder. ‘Trust me, Emily. There is no-one else on this planet who is ready to be a mother more than you.’ She almost rolled her eyes at the hyperbole, but appreciated the gesture. ‘Beside – you really think the team is going to let you go through this alone? Declan’s going to have _seven_ people watching out for him. And that’s just us.’

The words were comforting, even if deep down, she had already known that it was true. But she accepted his offer of company to the airport, if only so she didn’t freak out too much.

Seconds ticked by slower than they ever had before. Emily felt like a kid waiting for Christmas.

When she saw him, it was like time had stopped altogether.

He was taller, certainly, and his hair had darkened slightly, but there was still that veil of pure innocence that seemed to cover him eight years ago. She was sure she’d feel differently in a month or two, when he was refusing to brush his teeth, or not doing his homework…but now, he was a symbol of the only decent thing that had come out of her time with Doyle.

Declan’s expression split into a wide grin. He ran up to Emily and wrapped her in a tight hug. Emily closed her eyes and hugged him back.

A puzzle piece clicked into place. More than anything else in the world, this felt _right._

‘Hi,’ Declan murmured. Emily choked out a teary laugh.

‘Hi,’ she said back.

‘I missed you, Lau—’ He paused, frowning. ‘Emily. It still feels kinda weird to call you that.’

‘Yeah,’ she nodded. ‘But…Lauren was still me. Mostly. There were a few things that were different, but it was mostly just the name.’ Declan nodded, but he still seemed unsure. Emily wasn’t surprised. After everything that had happened over the past few months, Declan had the right to be a little confused. ‘This is Derek,’ she told him, gesturing towards Morgan. ‘We work together.’

‘At the FBI?’ Declan asked.

‘At the FBI,’ Emily confirmed. ‘Catching bad guys.’

‘Like my dad?’

Emily paused, shooting Morgan a helpless look. She didn’t want to keep Declan in the dark, but there was a limit to how much she could tell him. ‘Like your dad,’ she said, swallowing.

‘Want me to drive?’ Morgan asked, when they reached the car. Emily nodded, fishing the keys from her pocket. She put Declan’s luggage – a single duffel bag – in the trunk, and then got into the back seat.

There were so many questions she wanted to ask – eight years was like an eternity in the life of a child, and there was so much she didn’t know about him. Last time, her focus had been on Doyle. Now, she could give Declan the attention he deserved.

He seemed distant, but Emily couldn’t exactly blame him.

When they returned to her apartment, Morgan showed no signs of wanting to leave, something for which Emily was eternally grateful.

She showed Declan to his room, which looked far too bare for Emily’s tastes. There was a bed, a bookshelf and a desk in addition to the built in wardrobe, but if things went the way they were supposed to, then soon enough there would be dirty jeans strewn across the floor.

‘You hungry?’ Emily asked. ‘I could make some sandwiches, and we can put on a movie, or something.’

‘I guess,’ Declan mumbled.

‘Better make it something actiony,’ Morgan joked. ‘I don’t think he wants a chick flick.’

‘I’m pretty sure I don’t _own_ any chick flicks,’ Emily said matter-of-factly. ‘I do, however, have it on good authority that there is absolutely no-one in the world that dislikes _Star Wars_.’

And that was how, ten minutes later, Emily found herself watching _A New Hope_ with Declan and Morgan.

‘Hey,’ she said, in a stage whisper, punching Morgan softly on the arm. ‘Thanks.’

He grinned. ‘Anytime, princess.’


End file.
